Friday, October 9, 2009

Autumn Poetry

Graphic courtesy of the LJ community Magic Art

I haven't written poetry in a while, and yesterday while I was standing outside watching the leaves as Gray tilled the spelt field, I was struck with inspiration. I could see the poetry in the fall leaves, and smell it in the crisp air. It had to come out in words! The following poem was written this morning, in honor of the trees and beauty of a New England autumn.


I watch as the rudy colored leaves
Fall in graceful flutters
From trees quickly disrobed.
The chill autumn air drifts
In the bedroom window,
Carrying the scent of wet, decaying leaves.
Nights are cold now,
And I find myself lying awake
Just to hear the coyotes howl
And the owls hooting in the dark.
Autumn is alive like no other season.
Every scurrying animal,
Every bounding deer
Readies itself for the long sleep of the land.
The heft of hand-made quilts
Drapes over my drowsy form,
And I feel secure and safe.
In my mind, I am still seeing
Those beautiful autumn leaves
Of gold and red and saffron
As they fall from our trees.
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